It's the Weight of Love
by NoxWillow
Summary: After Rachel gets shot by HAPA in APB, Trent rescues her and brings her to his home to heal. Only having her so close if forcing him to face feeling about her he'd rather not admit. Trench.


**I'm hard core in this fandom right now. There's also not nearly enough of Rachel and Trent in the fanfiction world. This little one shot was inspired by the chapter from Trent's perspective in A Perfect Blood. I wish there was more! I'd love to know what was going on in his head.**

 **I also wish we knew what happened after Trent and Jenks rescued Rachel from HAPA. This is my version.**

 **Disclaimer: Kim Harrison owns all characters. And my heart too.**

 _It's just like you told me, that I should learn to let it all go_

 _It just took till now for me to get just what you meant_

 _My heart is thumping, I can feel it in my fingers_

 _No fear, no anger, we are law unto ourselves_

 _\- The Weight of Love, Snow Patrol_

 **It's the Weight of Love**

Rachel was in his home. He liked the idea of that. What he didn't like was that she was in his home, in his private hospital suite, currently under going surgery to get a bullet removed from her leg. Rachel wasn't just a magnet for trouble, no, she somehow surpassed that. The two simply came together as one. Rachel and trouble. Rachel was in trouble. Rachel was trouble.

Trent had to consciously stop the irate tapping his foot had taken to. He was in his office attempting to do paper work while his doctors pulled the bullet out of Rachel's leg. The image of her bloody and broken replayed itself in his mind, like a torturous vinyl skipping and repeating over and over again. It was the first time she had ever graciously accepted his help. His arms coming around her bruised and broken body, lifting her up to relieve her from the vindictive HAPA organization and taking her somewhere safe. She was content to be with him, so long as Winona trotted along behind. But she had been contempt to be with him none the less.

His remorse for hitting her with a pain spell dug deep. It hadn't been meant for her, by the Goddess, how he wished he could take it back. She wasn't supposed to jump in the way. But that was Rachel for you. Sacrifice never really crossed her mind. She had reacted, as simply as he had when he'd seen Winona.

That impulse bugged him though. He was a thinker. He didn't jump to conclusions. His whole life was built on carefully made decisions. A business man through and through. But Rachel had been there and that threw rationality out the window apparently. His heart had jumped at the demonic figure so close the her, he just simply reacted.

Trent dropped the pen he had been holding. His hand had taken on the tapping when his foot had stopped. His was restless, a product born of the last few hours. Finding her had been one thing, saving her life had been another. Only now it wasn't up to him but the best doctors money could buy you. He was sure she would have something to say about that. She always had something to say about his money. That bothered him too.

A soft knock on his door pulled his attention away from the redhead. The door squeaked open as Trent mumbled for them to come in. "Mr. Kalamack, she's out of surgery. Everything went fine." It was a scrub nurse. Trent breathed out quietly, the tension in his chest relieving itself. It was done then.

Nodding curtly to dismiss the nurse, the door closed behind her leaving Trent alone once again. Boy, was it dangerous when he was left alone to his thoughts. They had a tendency to stray back to Rachel, be she in his house or not. Standing up from his chair, Trent pushed around his desk and into the hallway. His feet trailed the path to the recovery room without much thought. His thoughts were located elsewhere. Big surprise.

Pushing the door to the room open, Trent caught his breath as his eyes found her. She was still out from the anesthetist, her breathing tube having been removed. A pain amulet rested on her chest, her right leg popping out from under the sheets, bandaged where the bullet had been removed.

Her chest rose softly, her breathing deep. Colour had returned to her face, previously white from the blood loss. He hair fanned the pillow in a wild mane, a true challenge to any brush that dared try. And yet she was beautiful. Always had been. Although if he told her that, she would scoff in his face. She had a tendency not to believe him. It was something they were working on.

Taking the seat beside the bed on her right, Trent eased himself down. Her bracelet shone in the florescent light of the recovery room. How bleak it was in here. A room where only survivors of terrible injury would be taken. No one came in here for the fun of it. It reeked of past pains.

Touching the piece of jewellery, Trent allowed himself a small indulgence. Her skin was smooth beneath the silver, if a little bruised from her escape. Her veins pumped true though as he traced them up the line of her forearm to the crook of her elbow. He froze when she murmured, fear lacing through him at being caught in such an intimate act. She would have his head surely for this one. But her breathing remained steady and he relaxed, pulling back lest she wake for real.

It wasn't long before another nurse came in to check on her vitals, and satisfied with them, he left Trent alone with her once more. His eyes roamed over her as she lay before him, completely unaware of his presence. She was vulnerable to him and he'd be damned if he let anything hurt her again.

Letting his eyes drift closed, and content with the steady rhythm of her breathing, Trent allowed himself to drift.

"What the hell?"

His eyes snapped open, immediately finding the clock. He had been out for fifteen minutes. Next, his eyes traveled to the source of the indignant sound. Rachel was sitting up in the bed, her eyes wide as they met his. "You're awake," he said stupidly.

"No shit, Sherlock. Where am I?"

Pulling himself up, Trent tried to grasp his bearings. Recovery room. With Rachel. Who just had a bullet taken out of her leg. After being kidnapped. Right. "You're in the recovery room at my house. You had the bullet taken out of your leg." There. Nice and easy.

"Recovery room? Who has a recovery room in their own house? Jesus, why am I here? Where Jenks? My god, where's Winona?" Rachel was trying to get herself out of the bed, tossing her legs over the side with a deep groan.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. You just had surgery. Take it easy, would you? Jenks and Winona are here safe. You couldn't go to the hospital because Winona would have attracted too much attention, remember?" He didn't answer her question about having a private recovery room. Money and an illegal bio drug program had their perks. He didn't need to be reprimanded for them right now.

Rachel ignored his words though, her feet tapping the floor lightly. "I don't have time for this," she muttered. Grabbing the bed handle, Rachel hoisted herself up much to Trent's chagrin. She swayed dangerously prompting Trent to grab her arm and steadying her. "I don't need your help." But he wasn't letting go.

"I don't think you know what you need and don't need right now." His voice was calm, deceiving of the anger he was suddenly feeling towards her. Why wouldn't she just accept his help?

"I don't need to rely on you. I can do this myself." God, she was stubborn.

Trent frowned. "And that bullet was just going to take itself out?"

"I would have dealt with it." He knew she was grasping at straws. "And if I remember, I'm not the one going around flinging pain spells at any and everyone."

His face fell and he could feel his ears turning red. He was hoping she would have somehow forgotten that. "I told you, that was a mistake. I was trying to protect you."

Giving up, Rachel sat back down in the bed, Trent releasing her arm. "Then why is it I always end up getting hurt around you?"

Suddenly the floor had become very interesting. Maybe if he concentrated hard enough on one spot, this conversation would dissolve to nothing but a bad memory. "That was in the past," he offered lamely.

"That was a couple of hours ago."

"People change?" he tried again, but it sounded weak even to his own ears.

"Still selling illegal drugs and running an underground bio lab?"

"I didn't say people change drastically." Blowing hair out of his eyes, Trent returned his gaze to Rachel. She was full of accusations tonight. "Look, you know I didn't mean to hit you with that spell. I'm trying to make a difference here. If only you'd let me." How sappy did that sound?

But Rachel seemed to consider it. Perhaps the drugs from surgery made her more reasonable. If only. Taking a breath, she knelt back against her pillows. A sheen of sweat had broken over her forehead. Standing up had taking more out of her than she let on. "You swear Jenks and Winona are okay?"

"What would I get out of lying to you about that?" This wasn't how he planed the conversation to go, but he was glad the accusations had stopped. For now at least.

"I want to see them." Her voice was quiet, her fingers playing with the silver bracelet.

Trent sighed as he resisted the urge to cover her fingers with his own. "Winona's asleep. Jenks is out with the fairies in the back. You can see them later."

Rachel held the quiet for moment, her eyes moving about the room, landing on anything but him. "You must think I'm stupid."

That was the last thing he had been expecting for her to say. "And why would I think that?" He though many things of her. Stupid wasn't one of them.

"You think I'm stupid for hiding behind this." She held her wrist up limply, adjusting the bracelet. Bruises peppered her arm, a stark contrast to her pale skin. "You think I'm a coward."

Trent leaned back in his chair, his eyes rolling over her. "I never said any such thing." His voice was deeper than he wanted it to be. It came out husky, prompting him to clear his throat.

"No. You never had to say it. I can see it all over your face."

"Is that so?"

"It would be easier if you just said it though."

"Why?"

"Because it's what everyone is thinking but no one will say." She turned her eyes back to him. "I'm a liability but no one will admit it. You though... You just might."

"Because I'm cruel enough too?"

"I never said that."

Trent held her eyes, fire burning behind them. She was baiting him. "You want me to admit you're what, insufficient? Volatile? A burden?" That last word hit a nerve, her eyes jerking away from his.

"Yes," she whispered. "A burden."

New alarm seemed to spread through Trent's body. "You don't get to do that," he breathed harshly, but she wouldn't look at him. "You don't get to devalue your life."

"It's what everyone is thinking but no one will say," she repeated quietly. Tears had begun to well up in her eyes. "Ivy and Jenks have already begun moving on. It's selfish to try and hold on. So fucking selfish." She wiped vigorously at her cheeks, erasing any evidence of her sadness. "I should let them move on."

Trent was speechless. He couldn't put into words the emotions whirling through his mind. Never had Rachel let herself be so vulnerable around him. Never had she voiced her darkest fears within his presence. He didn't think she trusted him enough to do so. Was this even trust, or shock?

"I thought this bracelet would be the answer. Having magic caused trouble. Not having it caused even more trouble. I can't win."

"It's not about winning." He had finally found his voice. "It's not about being a burden or not. It's about much more than anyone of us. Besides, they need you. So many people do. Ivy, Jenks, Winona. Even Al. And I... I won't let you become this. You don't get to be self destructive. We won't let you."

She still wouldn't meet his eyes. "Those are some pretty words, elf boy. But that's all they ever are." Shifting awkwardly, Rachel turned her back to him, resting on her left side. "Excuse me, I'm tired."

The dismissal was clear but Trent wasn't done. Standing up, he moved to the door, stopping when his hand reached the knob. "You've blinded yourself. That bracelet cut you off from who you really are. It was never the intention but that's what you've let it become. Tomorrow though. We'll get you back tomorrow."

He was out the door before she could say anything in return, though he much doubted she would. Closing it behind him, Trent began a determined path to his spelling hut. He had been working for weeks on this. Protection charms, circles, anything to keep her safe when that bracelet came off.

Now was his chance to prove his worth to her. Rachel couldn't save herself, but maybe he could.

TR TR TR TR TR

Aw snap! Trent has my heart. And Rachel's too if she would only admit it!


End file.
